The Open Road: A Second Chance Romance

by Quinn Loftis

  Sam’s eyes widened. “What?” she asked, her voice muffled as it was trying to escape around a mouthful of noodles.

  “The wedding’s back on.”

  Sam let out a muted squeal and almost choked on her chow mein. When she’d finally managed to swallow, she threw her arms around Charity. “Oh my gosh, when?” Sam asked.

  “Not sure yet,” said Charity. “We just talked about it a little bit ago and agreed that it was time.”

  “That’s great,” said Sam.

  “Good, because you are still my maid of honor.”

  “Damn right I am,” Sam replied. “Then what the heck are we doing watching TV? Let’s look at some dresses.” She grabbed her tablet and started searching bridal websites. They spent the next two hours oohing and ahhing over dresses, rings, and flowers while bouncing around ideas for venues and wedding bands. Samantha got so involved in the planning, she almost forgot to think about Derek and what it might mean that he had shown up at her doorstep just a couple of hours ago. But it was going to take more than a few supermodels in gorgeous white dresses to make her forget him completely. Still, she didn’t mention him once the entire time the girls were discussing the nuptials. Samantha was determined not to let Derek ruin her best friend’s wedding this go-around.

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m wedding-ed out for one night,” said Charity a couple hours later as she fell back on the couch. “My eyes started to blur after about the twelve-hundredth A-line dress.”

  “Same here,” said Samantha.

  “I’m going to text Brent to come pick me up. You going to be okay after I’m gone?” All of a sudden, a heaviness hung in the air between them.

  “I’ll be fine,” said Samantha.

  “No texting losers after I’m gone, right?”

  “I don’t even have his number anymore. Don’t you remember making me delete it from my phone?”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure he still has yours. If he texts you, don’t text him back.”

  “Yes, Mom,” said Sam.

  “Ha! Your mother would probably be wondering why you haven’t texted him already. She’ll be happy as a lark he’s back.”

  “Which is why I’m not going to tell her,” replied Samantha.

  “Good thinking,” said Charity. “She’ll say you’re crazy not to get back with him. When it comes to Derek, she’s like a pusher waiting outside a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. I’ve never understood why she defends him so much.”

  “Guess it’s a family cycle thing,” said Sam. “She’s been in her share of abusive relationships. It’s only right her daughter continues the family legacy.”

  “The cycle stops now,” said Charity.

  “Sir, yes, sir,” barked Samantha, giving her a mock salute.

  “Good work here today, private,” Charity said back sharply, giving her own salute in return.

  They each sat on the couch in silence, looking at their phones and lost in their own thoughts while they waited for Brent to arrive. After several minutes, Charity spoke again.

  “I know why you don’t like him,” she said all of a sudden.

  “Don’t like who?” Sam asked, cocking an eyebrow at her friend.

  “The RV guy, Jason. The brokenhearted vagabond.”

  “Why should I like him?” Samantha countered.

  “You mean besides the fact that he’s hot?” asked Charity.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, if you’re going to be watching videos of the same person over the course of several weeks and months, I guess it helps if he’s good looking.”

  “But I’m not going to be watching him. I only watch his damn videos when you make me.”

  “And I plan on making you watch them all,” Charity said.

  Samantha groaned. “Why? I’ve got better things to do with my time than watch some phony guy drive around the country tearing up every time he sees a sunset or a purple flower. I’ve got a wedding to help plan, remember?”

  “He’s not phony,” Charity said simply.

  “I still say he’s selling something,” Sam argued, though there was a niggling little voice in the back of her mind that called her a liar. “Why are you so sure about him?”

  “Well, I searched his marriage license, for one. First, I searched the city of Little Rock and found out that city is located in Pulaski County. A quick search on the Pulaski county courthouse website told me that Jason O’Neal and Bethany Johnson were married on June 20, 2012. Then I searched his wife’s accident. I found her obituary, and the two girls’, still posted on a funeral home’s website. Looks like they just died at the end of last year.”

  “You’re obsessed,” said Samantha.

  “Maybe,” replied Charity, “but I’ll admit your negative attitude caused me to question his authenticity a little myself. I wanted to find out if he was really telling the truth.”

  “Just because part of his story is true doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have some ulterior motive. Actually, it makes it worse. He’s exploiting the death of his wife and children to become an internet star. That’s sick.”

  “Maybe, if that’s what he was really doing, but it isn’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Sam asked. Why was it so hard for her to accept that maybe, just maybe, there was a genuinely good guy out there who’d loved his wife with all his heart and never lied to her or hurt her the way Derek had? She wanted to believe it. She knew Brent was a good guy, so why couldn’t she give this Jason guy a break?

  “Do you remember how Tran said he was a good person?”

  “Yes.”

  “Brent agrees. In fact, he thinks the guy’s on the edge of breaking for good. Brent thinks he’s going to kill himself, drive his RV off a cliff or something. Oh, no, I just thought of something.”

  “What?” groaned Sam.

  “June 20th is coming up. It’s in a few weeks. I hope he really doesn’t do something terrible.”

  “I don’t like the guy, but I don’t want him to drive off a cliff,” said Samantha

  “Like I said, I already know why you don’t like him, even though you don’t even know him,” said Charity.

  “Go ahead. Give me your professional psychiatric opinion. Why don’t I like him?”

  “You don’t believe a man can actually be so good because you’ve only been with Derek.”

  “I’ve been with other guys,” Sam countered.

  “Sorry, nothing before senior year of high school counts. You’ve never been in a serious relationship with anyone else. The first love is hard to shake for any girl. It was just your bad luck your first happened to be with a gigantic loser who doesn’t know how to let go. Not all men are like that. Some are decent.”

  “We can’t all be lucky enough to find someone like Brent,” Samantha said. She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her voice or face.

  “Yes, you can. You will be that lucky. But not if you let this creep back into your life.”

  “I’ve already told you, I’m not. Give me some credit.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if I was a bank and you walked into my office looking for credit, I’d tell you not to let the door hit you on the rear end on the way out.”

  Samantha stuck her tongue out at her best friend, the only form of retaliation a recovering banana slug had on hand.

  “Want to watch the next video?” Charity asked.

  “You’re not going to leave me alone until I do. Might as well get it over with,” Sam responded. Charity pulled it up with a couple of taps. She showed Samantha the video she and Brent had watched earlier. Sam was silent as she watched Jason trace his route through the continental United States.

  “What do you think?” Charity asked when the video finished.

  “Albuquerque, I guess,” Sam said.

  “Huh?”

  “I guess I’d vote to send him to Albuquerque,” she said with a groan.

  “Well that’s interesting, but not exactly what I meant. I wa
s more asking what you thought in general about the video. I didn’t think you wanted to participate in his shenanigans,” Charity reminded her.

  “I don’t,” said Sam. “But if you are going to keep pestering me, I guess I might as well play along.”

  “Okay, then, why Albuquerque? Which is the opposite of what I already voted for, by the way.”

  “I don’t know,” replied Samantha. “Something in his voice made it seem like he didn’t want to go too deep into Texas, like it was too familiar or something. I think it might be a part of his life he wants to put behind him, at least for the moment.”

  Charity let out a simulated gasp and put her hand to heart. “What’s that? I think I just heard your heart grow three sizes. Better be careful or the thing might explode.”

  “Ha-ha,” said Sam, rolling her eyes.

  There was a knock on the door, and Samantha jumped up.

  “I got it,” said Charity, moving quickly to the front door. She looked out the peephole to make sure it was Brent before she opened it. He poked his head in and gave a quick wave and hello but stayed outside on the doorstep. Charity gathered her purse and gave Samantha one last hug.

  “You remember my orders, private. No contact,” said Charity.

  “Aye, aye, captain,” Sam replied.

  “That’s navy. I thought we were doing army.”

  “Whatever, get out. I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” said Samantha, pushing her friend out the door.

  When Charity had gone, Sam stood in the open doorway, staring out into the night. A chill ran up her spine and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching her. Henry Hyena’s image popped up in her head. Surely not. She narrowed her eyes and looked around, trying to scry figures lurking in the shadows. Samantha swallowed hard as she realized it might be Derek sitting out there watching her. God, she hoped not. After several minutes of seeing nothing other than bushes, trees, and cars, Sam shook her head and shut the door. I’m being a paranoid idiot.

  Still, she made sure to lock and deadbolt the door. The rest of the evening was uneventful. She had a low-calorie microwave fettucine alfredo for dinner while watching television then went to bed early. Throughout the night, Sam caught herself nervously checking her phone or listening for any sound outside, terrified Derek was going to text, call, or turn up at her door again. She was also terrified he wouldn’t. Regardless, she heard nothing from him.

  Just before she fell asleep, Samantha pulled up Jason’s video and played it again. A feeling of longing came over her as she watched him trace his route across the country. I wonder what it’d be like to just take off and leave all your problems behind. Because I’ve got a problem I really need to run from. Maybe two problems if the hyena doesn’t knock off his crap.

  She scrolled down to the comments section and found the online poll. She tapped the button marked ‘Albuquerque.’ The results came up showing her that El Paso was actually leading the vote by a slim margin—fifty-two to forty-eight percent, with almost six hundred votes cast.

  Wow, six hundred votes. Apparently, Charity is not the only one obsessed with this guy.

  Exhausted, both from the lack of sleep she received the night before, and from the yo-yo of emotions seeing Derek had thrust upon her, Samantha fell into a fitful sleep. But just before she nodded off, visions of herself rolling across the country in the passenger seat of an RV played through her mind.

  Chapter Nine

  Despite her exhaustion, Samantha had not slept well. She awoke early the next morning, well before her alarm went off. She grunted and growled, sounding like a grizzly awakening from a long hibernation. Precious sleep had been lost because her loser ex-boyfriend had shown up unannounced. That, alone, was reason enough to castrate him. Not to mention her might be stalker, Henry, had her wondering all night if he was sitting outside behind a bush staring at her apartment. As soon as she was thinking clearly, she found her hand snatching her phone from the nightstand. She felt a mixture of emotions when she saw that no one had texted her during the night. There was relief, primarily, but something else was also present. Was it disappointment? Hell, to the no. She shuddered and pushed the thought from her mind.

  The rest of the morning passed in a haze of slow deliberateness. Every move she made as she showered and prepared for work was done with a sense of purpose. She took extra care as she placed her turkey and avocado sandwich into her bag. She was cautious to squeeze just the right amount of toothpaste on her toothbrush. Like a scientist mixing chemicals in a beaker, she carefully measured out the cream for her morning coffee. It was as if her subconscious was trying to control everything around her. Samantha felt as if she were walking on the edge of a cliff and the slightest misstep would send her tumbling over the edge into the abyss. She’d been in that dark chasm before and she was determined not to go back. If she could control the little things, such as her sandwich, toothpaste, and coffee, perhaps she would have the strength to control the larger battle warring within her.

  Everything was going well until she began putting on her jewelry. What little adornments she possessed were kept in the top dresser drawer. Samantha put on a silver ring designed to resemble a flower, with a garnet in its center. She donned a pair of matching earrings. As she thumbed through her jewelry, her fingertips brushed across a small charm in the shape of a book, which hung upon a slender silver chain. Hesitantly, she picked it up and held it in her palm. Immediately, her memory was cast back to high school. Derek had given her this pendant just before graduation. He knew she loved to read more than anything else, and he had been right in thinking she’d like the necklace. At the time, she’d thought it was the most considerate gift anyone had ever given her. Looking back, she realized Derek had only been acting out of his insecurity. He had become kinder the closer graduation day came. Now, four years later, she knew he had only been acting sweet because he’d been afraid he was going to lose her to college. Still, when Derek was being “Sweet Derek,” as she liked to call him, he was hard to resist, and she would have done anything for him—did do anything for him. Sam wished for all the world she could go back in time and cut ties with him right at the beginning. She would have saved herself so much heartache.

  Sam held the necklace with a trembling hand. She curled it up in her palm and closed her fist tightly, feeling the metal press into her skin. She held her hand over the small trash can in her room, still squeezing her fist as tightly as possible, wishing she could crush the necklace into a fine powder and all her memories of Derek along with it. Samantha opened her palm and the piece of jewelry fell. She watched as gravity uncoiled the thing in the air. It seemed to take an eternity to land at the bottom of the wastebasket with a whispered thump. The can was empty but for the necklace. She stood motionless, staring at the jewelry resting at the bottom of the can.

  It would be such a simple thing, even now, to simply pick up the necklace and put it back in her drawer.

  After all, it’s just a necklace. And a nice necklace at that. Keeping it doesn’t mean I’m going to get back with Derek, does it? Surely not. It was kind of silly to throw it away, anyway. I mean, who throws away perfectly good jewelry? I don’t even need to wear it. The necklace hadn’t been bothering me at all just sitting there in the drawer, not hurting a thing. I’m was being stupid throwing it away. And what if I did wear it? Was that so bad? I could wear the necklace and not even think of Derek.

  It was a charm in the shape of a book, after all. Samantha had three of them from the library sitting on her bedside table right now.

  The necklace will make me think of books, not Derek. Why am I being so crazy about a necklace?

  Now, deliberately, as she’d done everything else that morning, Samantha bent down toward the trash can. Instead of reaching in and picking out the necklace and replacing it in her dresser drawer, she picked up the entire can. She carried it into the kitchen, where she dumped its contents, consisting of only the necklace, into
the kitchen wastebasket, which was almost full. She gathered up the kitchen trash bag and tied its drawstrings. She removed the bag, walked out of her apartment to the building’s shared dumpster across the parking lot, and flung the kitchen trash bag containing the not-hurting-a-thing charm, into the depths of the large dumpster where it struck the side and echoed with a hollow clang. She mimed dusting her hands off and walked back into her apartment. Nuclear bombs didn’t hurt a thing either … until they did.

  When Samantha marched into the breakroom at Caldwell a few minutes before her workday started, she found Charity and Jessica talking by the coffeepot. They greeted her warmly, but something about their forced smiles gave her pause. Sam knew they’d been talking about her, which was not unexpected.

  “I assume you told Jessica about my visitor yesterday,” Samantha said.

  “I told her that a snake oil salesman showed up peddling his garbage, and you promptly showed him what you thought of his wares,” said Charity.

  “You really threw up on him?” asked Jessica.

  “Yes, it was quite gross. There was splatter. And lots of chunkage.”

  “That is awesome,” said Jessica. “It’s exactly what the situation warranted.”

  “That’s what I said,” offered Charity. “Now, I just hope it’s enough to scare the creep off for good.”

  “You know better than that,” said Sam.

  “I do, but a girl can hope,” replied Charity, grabbing her coffee mug. “See you this afternoon. I’ve got meetings most of the morning and during lunch, unfortunately.”

  “Better you than me,” said Samantha. She put the brown paper bag containing her own lunch in the breakroom refrigerator, trying to hide it in the back so it might escape the notice of the office lunch thief, but she already knew her efforts at concealment would be a poor defense. Nothing in the fridge was safe once the lunch bandit got the munchies. She needed to get a lunch box with a cold pack and keep her food at her desk. Constant vigilance was the only way to safeguard an innocent lunch in this office.